Alice's Nightmare
by Alice Ariell
Summary: This is a third person narrative that takes place after season 1 ends, with the addition of Alice Graham, Will's sister and only living relative. She arrives at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane in an effort to save her brother and herself, but can she?
1. Chapter 1

_This is my take on the beginning of Season 2 if Will Graham had a younger sister name Alice who would come to his defense. I was captivated by the dynamic characters and wanted to add a little something extra to the mix as we wait for the story to unfold. I certainly do not own anything Hannibal related. This is mainly an homage to the brilliant show. _

"I want to see my brother," says Alice Graham before biting her lower lip, eyes flicking nervously to a dark painting of a lamb in field at night.

Dr. Chilton studies the girl openly, searching her intense eyes for the madness that lives so naturally inside her brother, Will Graham. Her ivory skin appears illuminated under the harsh excess of light. Her eyes are the deep green of a meadow after a thunderstorm. Her lips are a puffed, muted pink. Waves of chestnut hair cascade softly past her small shoulders.

"I am very sorry…Alice? Is it? But William is simply too unstable. You _are_ aware that he has been charged for committing multiple homicides?"

Alice Graham holds her breath to conceal a sneer of contempt. After counting to five she retorts, "Just because Freddie Lounds writes an article and Jack Crawford makes a heinous accusation does _not _mean that my brother is a psychotic murderer." Her voice is low, her demeanor, stony. She reacts similarly to Will when probed.

Dr. Chilton gives her a look of exaggerated sympathy. "The evidence found…" he begins, but stops himself after noting the expression on Alice's face. "The state has placed your brother in my care, and I'm going to see to it that he gets the treatment he needs."

She can't tell if he had meant to say it to sooth her nerves or exacerbate them, though she secretly believes his intention is the latter.

"That isn't what I asked. I want to see my brother, and you are going to _let _me. If you truly want to help him, than you _must_ know that seeing his sister will be good for him. It'll be good for me too," she says honestly, her arms wrapped protectively around her chest.

He takes a moment to consider the opportunity presented to him. He resolves to confer with Dr. Lecter before proceeding.

"I need to think this through, taking all aspects of your brother's condition into consideration before proceeding with anything that might aggravate his mental state," Dr. Chilton offers cagily.

Alice stands, eyes icy with offense. She looks directly into his pale eyes and says, "I'll be in the waiting room until you make a decision." She grabs her dark gray rucksack and slams the door in his face.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter walks briskly through the waiting room of the Baltimore State Hospital for the criminally insane, noting the smooth white neck of a young woman reclining on one of the hard metal chairs. Her head is bent innocently, eyes closed. He wonders who she might be visiting.

Dr. Chilton welcomes him into his office warmly, offering him tea. Hannibal smiles in acceptance, wondering what crude machinations Frederick would consider refined. After an inquisitive sip, he places the tea down, unimpressed, as he expected.

"Since your call was rather mysterious in nature and you have yet to breach the subject, I will venture to assume that this meeting is to do with my former patient, Will Graham. What I am curious about is what specifically you wish to discuss that you think I am unaware of," he states plainly, unwilling to play cat and mouse with such inferior pray.

Dr. Chilton responds with a Cheshire cat's grin. "Were you aware that Will Graham has a sister?"

Hannibal swallows hard and looks in his colleague's eyes with interest. "Yes, of course. Will spoke of Alice briefly in one of our first sessions. He told me that she was a bright young woman who moved to Manhattan to pursue acting and join the poetry movement rooted there. She should be in her early twenties now. Will hasn't spoken to her in some time. Too distracted with death and unwilling to share the darkness with someone he loves."

"She's sitting in my waiting room," Dr. Chilton says, feeling the power of that statement. He knew how interested Hannibal would be. He also knew that Hannibal enjoyed unorthodox psychoanalysis as much as he did.

Hannibal does not allow himself to smile, though behind his eyes, a symphony plays. "Ah, yes. I saw a young woman sleeping. It is rude of you to leave her waiting, Frederick. She has heard terrible things reported about her brother, and now she has arrived at the hospital he remains a prisoner in and she is denied the right to comfort him. What is she to do? Very rude, indeed."

Dr. Chilton takes a deep breath, the smile gone from his lips. "What do you suggest? Will has been unresponsive as of late…this type of interaction could prove beneficial…"

"…or he could pull his sister into his delusion." Hannibal's eyes wander to the white door of Chilton's office. He wants to see past the wood, past the girl's skin, into her mind. How much like her brother is she? And how many more cracks can he add to Will Graham's psyche if his sister were to be threatened?

The two doctors walk quietly over to Alice as she yawns and rubs her eyes awake. Upon noticing their arrival she stands quickly, sure that Chilton is going to decline her admittance further.

"After careful consideration and the council of a highly respected colleague," Hannibal inclines his head to the compliment, "I have decided to allow you a brief visit with your brother," Dr. Chilton offers with a calculated smile.

Alice's eyes well with tears. She turns her head, embarrassed by her emotional reaction. She hates showing any kind of reaction in front of men she knows use emotion against people for a living. "Take me to him," she implores, unwilling to wait a moment longer.

"Before we proceed, I would like to introduce you to Dr. Hannibal Lecter. He was William's original psychiatrist and will be assisting me in his treatment."

She knows this man had a role to play in her brother's incarceration, but she is unsure how bloody his hands were. Alice gazes cautiously into his striking face and says "I know who you are," quietly, like a secret admission.

Hannibal takes Alice's small hand in his, stroking it comfortingly. "I am sorry you must experience this, but I believe it will do Will good to see you again."

For the briefest of moments, Alice Graham felt as though someone understands her.

Will Graham's attention is focused on a black blotch on the ceiling of his cell. He was sure the stain had spread since yesterday, if he could remember when yesterday was. The acidic taste of chemicals sits in his mouth. At night, the stain begins to take a crimson shade, and he can almost smell the faint perfume Abigail wore on the plane…summer lilacs. Then everything smells of blood and fevered heat.

"Will!" Abigail calls out, as if underwater. Did he drown her? No, they told him he cut her throat and…

"It's me. It's Abigail."

Someone is crying. Will sees a field of mushrooms, a totem pole of bodies, faces split open, organs dangling, Abigail's ear…

"It's Alice. Will please, I love you, just look at me," she whispers almost inaudibly.

He hears her. He looks up. There she is. His sister. The one person in the world he wanted to protect most of all. Over the past three months he barely wanted to think of her, for fear he would dream she was hurt in some way by the killers he was forced to study. And now here she is, in the snake pit with him.

"I didn't want you to come here," he says desperately, through tears.

"I don't care! I don't care about myself. I'm here, I'm here, I don't believe them, I love you, I won't ever believe it," she blurts in a ramble of exhaustion of pain.

Dr. Chilton and Dr. Lecter listen to the exchange with interest, at a distance that does not attract their subject's attention.

Will squeezes the iron bars in frustration. "You don't understand. It isn't safe for you to be here. I don't want you to attract anyone's attention."

"It's too late." Alice's eyes wander to the floor as she places a lock of hair behind her ear. "Everyone knows. I can't talk to any of my friends without them asking me…reporters keep calling, find me in hotels…all that matters is that I'm here for you now. You won't have to endure this alone." She reaches through the bars and takes hold of her brother's hands.

Dr. Lecter steps purposefully beside Alice and places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Alice. We are all here to help Will." His smile radiates through the bars and into the terrified heart of his prey.


	2. Chapter 2

Hannibal Lecter studies Will with eagerness. He was not surprised to hear that Will has requested a session with him. In fact, he was quite confident that he knew the reason for the call, and was interested to hear how Will might attempt to threaten him from behind bars, with cameras aimed at him and not an open window or door in sight. His mongoose was growing bolder, despite the reality of his imprisonment. Hannibal was quite pleased with the progress he had been making as of late.

Will Graham looks at his old friend with pain etched into his expression. At one time, Hannibal was the only man he felt he could trust. In time, he began to think of him as his closest friend…someone he could go to when the world went black and death played a dirge behind his eyes. Now, he only saw the monster beneath the carefully performed façade.

"I want your word you'll leave Alice alone," he states plainly, pushing the sound of desperation down his throat in an attempt to appear calm.

"How did it feel to see such innocent terror in her eyes?"

Hannibal watches as Will fights back the urges he keeps deep inside of himself. He knows his young friend would love nothing more than to kill him, _end_ it, be _in control, _but he is so far away from this reality that he almost cracks another telling smile.

"How did it feel not being able to kill her in front of me without exposing yourself?" Will throws back at him. He knows who Hannibal is now. Knows how he _thinks. _The desire to kill or distort Alice's mind would be his new obsession. He would want to harm her in a way that would damage Will the most…Will's mind was racing, desperate to solve this puzzle before Hannibal could play his first move.

A sigh escapes Hannibal's lips. The actor knows all the tricks, of course. "You _must _begin to accept your reality, Will. Until you do, treatment will not work properly." Will blinks uncomfortably, feeling naked under a burning light. "How can I allow you visits from your sister while these delusions persist? A young mind like hers, so empathetic, so like your own, who knows what this experience is doing to her already? She needs you to be strong. Can you do that, Will?"

He is disgusted by Hannibal's blatant threat. It was not only unnecessary, but made Will feel even more isolated from his former companion. It was clear that he would never admit to being the Copy Cat Killer, or that he had planted the idea that Will was losing his mind, rather than inform him that he was ill from encephalitis for weeks before admitting that he should be taken to the hospital. He could recover from the betrayal of a friend, though the knife cut deep and bloody. He was vaguely certain he couldn't recover from the death of his only living relative. That knowledge played tetras between two sets of eyes for seconds that dragged against a Dali landscape.

Will's body is visibly tense. "You don't want me to be strong. You want me to envision myself as a killer, as _you_, to lose myself to the madness of that feeling. It'll be much easier for me to appear insane to a judge and jury if you can _actually_ drive me insane. More authentic…"he says through gritted teeth, "which is what you really care about, isn't it? After all, the whole _world_ is watching. But I'm never going to let you in my head again, Dr. Lecter. I know the game now, and I'm going to play until everyone knows the _real _monster in our little story."

Hannibal tilts his head and smiles indulgently. He loves to be seen by so bold an adversary. It makes him feel awake, alert, _alive. _He wishes Will still had the sweet scent of fever dancing through his skin, marking him as vulnerable and fascinating all at once, while making Hannibal's taste buds tremble at the thought of his tender meat melting off the bone, a delicacy that deserves patience…

"You thought you were a monster once, so lost in your illness you needed a constant reminder of who you were. Keeping track of time was nearly impossible as the world shifted under your feet, creating visions of horror wherever you went. You have much to explain that you cannot, and much to disprove that appears impossible to refute. I am not saying this to hurt you, Will. I care about what happens to you more than anyone, even your sister, who never saw your true nature."

"My true nature?"

"You are a killer, Will. You enjoyed killing Garret Jacob Hobbs and you would enjoy killing me now." Will says nothing, the vision of his gun aimed at Hannibal's head, his decision to kill the stag, to kill the madness blinded him with the feeling of being flooded with light and sound.

Dr. Chilton glides down the corridor with confidence, excited to hear his most challenging patient begin to open up, even if is to Hannibal, rather than himself. He respected his colleague immensely for being able to have gotten so close to such a fascinating, guarded mind. Still, a sprig of jealousy always sprouted in his heart when he saw a colleague getting closer to solving a difficult case. His failure with Abel Gideon had made him eager to study Will's mind, if only to inspire scientific articles that would bring him more respect and acclaim. He was sure an entire volume could be written on the complexities of Will's exceptional mind…but would Dr. Lecter be the one to write it, having the most insight?

Hannibal notices Dr. Chilton watching him from the corner of his eye. He is sure that Frederick is jealous of his ability to interact with Will effectively, and must feel utterly foolish in his presence. He is flattered by his colleague's respect, but also disgusted by his spineless nature.

"How are you feeling today, Will?" Chilton asks, his head tilted in an imitation of concern.

"I don't want my sister coming here. Tell her that I'm grateful she came, but I want her to be with her friends in New York. She doesn't need to be a part of this," Will breathes, staring dangerously into Hannibal's eyes.

Dr. Chilton gazes at his patient carefully, studying the hints of panic in his eyes. There is something that he doesn't want his sister to see, or know, but _what_? "I'll certainly tell her of your request, though I do not predict she will accept such a statement."

Will sneers at him. "Don't you run this place?"

"Indeed I do. Though you like to play a king locked in the dungeon, _I _am the one with the keys. In fact, I've come to inform you that your sister is here, eagerly awaiting admittance to see you. Dr. Lecter, shall we great our young new friend?"

Alice paces anxiously in the waiting room. She is sick of this bullshit. Instead of rehearsing her lines, she was stuck in perpetual place, back hunched over, eating little more than hummus and crackers and the occasional chocolate bar while waiting to see Will. She wished she could spend the whole day with him, figuring out a game plan of sorts, but it always felt like Dr. Chilton cut in and shortened their time together.

The door to the ward opens as the doctors step out. Alice decides to skip the pleasantries today and strides past them, remembering which cell Will inhabits. She feels extremely rude, and _likes_ it. She hates these men more than she even realizes, her heart hardening and her mind sharpening into a tool she must to use if she wants to save her brother.

"Good morning sleepyhead," she greets gently, trying to believe in a smile.

He turns, sighing deeply. "Alice. Please. I didn't want you to come back."

"Well that's too bad, isn't it?" she asks rhetorically. "Looks like you're stuck with me. And guess what? I have about a year of exciting news and hilarious high jinks to annoy you into talking about how I can help you get out of here."

Will can't help but to chuckle. "Was that even a sentence?"

Alice lets out a laugh. "_Yes. _I am an actress, William, I know when words sound fancy," she says in a British accent.

Dr. Lecter stops in his tracks at the sound of laughter. He can hardly believe his ears. He thought the Grahams would be whispering secrets, not exchanging jokes. Hannibal was delighted, and felt astonished at himself for enjoying their presence, especially after the girl's rude lack of a greeting.

"Ah yes," Will smiles, "any new plays I need to be seeing?" he lowers his head. "You know, if someone could film them for me…" his voice darkens so Alice cuts him off.

"Actually, yeah. Umm, so I finally got a call-back from The Public Theatre." Her pride beams off her in crystals of light reflected in the green flecks of her eyes. "They're doing _Titus Andronicus _for Shakespeare in the Park. I'm playing Lavinia."

Hannibal almost gasps. The irony is too perfect, he feels suddenly as though he were dreaming. Could this young creature just appear in his life and tell him the most poetic way to kill her? He wants to kiss her head, smell her hair, devour her. She is quite lovely. Her body is small and lithe. She has a dancer's shape, which must serve her acting well. He would serve her, but never _well_. He chuckled inwardly.

"That is _incredible, _Alice. I am so proud of you."

"Well gee whiz, now I feel like it's graduation, but that's terrible, because it's always so hot in those ridiculous robes."

"And people think _I _make strange associations!" he says, leaping off the bed, wanting to stand close to her. He feels so far away from everyone and everything behind those cold bars.

Alice looks shy for a moment. She knows people are probably listening to their conversation, but she can't pull her eyes away from Will. "You remember Liam, the guy that played Hamlet when you came to see me in NYU?"

Will shakes his head. "Not particularly. I remember he did a good job, but what I really remember most were your scenes, obviously. When you sing that song after your father dies…and the image of the river…you looked very beautiful, I suppose I should mention."

"Stop trying to butter me up. I already told you I would bring you chocolate and pictures of the dogs in various adorable positions."

Will wrinkles his nose. "Dear lord, do _not _torture the animals. It's bad enough I have to be locked away."

Alice becomes serious. She wants to keep joking, but fear gnaws at her heart and she can't help but come back to Earth. "Yes, it is. It's the worst, actually. How can we fix this? How can we prove your innocence?"

In a small voice, Will utters, "I have no idea."

"Well then we'll think of one, or several, depending on the force of the prosecution. Even the word is ugly." She lowers her head. "I'm afraid I'm going to freak out," she whispers. "I have no idea what I'm doing, and I wish I was an ostrich so I could bury my head in the sand, or at least be a Muppet, so that I could fix this during a musical number…"

"Do you often speak in such vivid metaphors, Ms. Graham?" Dr. Chilton breaks the warm rapport with surgical precision.

Alice gazes at him through her bangs. "Yes," she says boastfully, with a smirk.

"If you're anything like Will, you will have a beautiful imagination, rich with poetic elegance," Hannibal compliments his patient organically, not thinking of those listening.

"If you knew anything about Will's imagination, you would know that it isn't filled with darkness, but with _understanding_ and _hope_." She feels naked under those cool, professional eyes. She wants to hide inside of herself, but instead her mouth keeps projecting brave, defensive words. At least a part of her feels strong.

Hannibal would love to agree, if it benefited his machinations, but unfortunately, it did not. "I have known your brother to be fearful and erratic, his mind wrapped around murder-"

"His job must have been _destroying _him, he was forced to try and piece together the _why _of unspeakable nightmares. Are you kidding me? Sometimes I feel like I'm surrounded by crazy people!" Several of the inmates chuckled, as did Dr, Chilton.

"Don't bother, Alice. Talking to them is more destructive than staring at any crime scene, trust me." He shares a look with Hannibal that shocks them both. Even after all of the manipulations, deceptions and torture, they both miss the easy company they once shared. Now it felt like they were in the middle of a bad break up, and neither man was very good at relationships to begin with…

_~Thank you for following! Reviews are very welcome as I do wish to continue this tale and bring it somewhere dark and forbidding, where our favorite devil can truly play. _


	3. Chapter 3

Alice's heart leaps when her cell phone goes off. She had just visited Will and was heading into the autumn sunset in her beat up, blue Minnie Cooper. Carefully pressing the speaker button, she lets out a slow, "Hey, baby," ready for words of comfort and love.

"Hey, darlin'" Liam replies in his sweet southern drawl. He grew up in North Carolina, and moved to the city when he was accepted into NYU. They were both cast in _Hamlet_, and never stopped rehearsing their kiss, and then would always end of grabbing dinner or watching some ridiculous old movie. Their connection was easy, and always made Alice feel at home. "I've been thinking and I decided I want to come up. They'll let me retake the exams in a month."

Alice is expecting to hear this, and smiles before saying, "Baby, you shouldn't have to. Wait just a few more days and then come. I can't live without you forever, but I can bare it just a little while longer. I've been reading a lot of psychology books, barely grasping what I'm reading but…Liam, I have a theory about who framed my brother," she says heavily, not able to keep her fears a secret any longer.

"No, this is crazy, I'm packing my bag _now, _Alice. You're in too deep. We're talking about a _serial killer_. I love you and I would beg you to come home, but I know that would be useless. I'll put you on speaker while I get ready. What's your theory?"

She is almost afraid to say it at first. "Ok. I just have this horrible feeling about his therapist. I think somehow he's gaining something through this, but I can't understand what. It's the look on his face. Indescribable. And I think Chilton is a sadist and enjoys holding Will prisoner. He really freaks me out, total psycho material. How are these people in charge?"

Liam lets out a hollow sigh. "I don't have a solitary explanation. Unfortunately, I can't crack you a beer and put on some show about sea creatures right now, but I will soon," he promises. The drive shouldn't take that long this time of day.

"Just give me a really, really long hug," she says honestly, as her car drives into the sun. "I'm staying at the Fox Hunt Motel. Yes, it's as terrifying as it sounds. My room has red flower wallpaper," she sighs with a laugh.

"Are you living in a horror movie? I'll make reservations for a hotel with _room service_. It sounds like we're going to need it."Alice wants to kiss him so much she almost curses. "And can you promise me something?"

"Yes," she answers easily.

"Don't go back there without me. I don't like to think of it, and when you tell me how much they frighten you…"

"I can take care of myself. They may be dangerous but they aren't stupid. They wouldn't do anything that would arouse suspicion during the trail," she responds briskly, her defenses up. It was becoming difficult to discern if she would ever be able to let her guard down.

Liam answers carefully, "I know how strong you are. Just let me be there for you. That's all I want. We'll get through this and then drag your brother to the city and show him every dive bar and hole-in-the-wall worth seeing."

This is the moment Alice was worried about. Tears slide down her face in silent sacrifice and the street blurs. "We can't take Will to the city," she chokes out. "Everyone has seen his face on t.v. Everyone thinks he's a murder." She pauses, feeling ill. "People back home sent me death threats," she says in the tiniest voice she possess. "Someone chased me at school. I was near the car, so I…got away..." all of her secrets flood out in a wave of pain. Liam is deadly silent. "Dr. Chilton and Dr. Lecter are always listening in on my conversations, they're always there when I'm visiting…"

"I'll be with you in a few hours. Go take a hot shower. Take deep breaths. You're done dealing with this on your own, do you hear me? And I'm going to make sure that we show these bastards we aren't afraid of them," he says steadily, meaning every word and feeling violence brim in his chest.

The hours pass and Alice's hair dries in flowing waves. The steaming shower helped take some of the tension away, but she still feels cold in her bones and uneasiness in her belly. She throws on boxers and a tank top, listening to Florence and the Machine's _Howl _as she tries to write a decent poem. All of her verse ends up frightening her, so she gives up after a few hours and places what she has written in her bag so that Liam won't find it.

When Liam finally knocks on her door she does not hear it, lost in a daydream in which Will is living in the city with her, teaching Medieval Literature or Criminology 101, something non-threatening and easy to forget about. He comes to support her performances, and after they grab drinks with Liam, who is his perpetual wing man. He has to knock several times before her ears even register the sound.

She welcomes him with a long and savory kiss, and he rakes his hands through her hair, taking in her scent and loving the feel of her soft skin against his lips. They break a lamp and manage to tear several articles of clothing as they lose themselves in each other's touch.

Will is shocked to see a young man wrap a protective arm around his sister's shoulders. He had begun to forget that there was a world outside of his dark gray cell, or the rooms where they run their endless tests.

"I'm sorry, I started to mention Liam yesterday, but you flattered me and I got sidetracked," she says honestly.

"Not at all. I would say it's a pleasure to meet you, but I don't really find anything that pleasurable these days," he offers weakly.

Liam extends his hand for a handshake. "You _cannot_ touch the prisoner," an officer barks from several feet away. Liam glares at him and extends his arm deeper through the bars. Will nods and shakes his hand, grateful for the show of solidarity and defiance. The officer takes him by the arm and forces him away. "I'm sorry young man, but you're going to have to leave this area. Someone needs to check the prisoner for anything that may have been passed through the bars."

"Hey, don't touch him," Alice gasps. When the officer begins to forcibly remove her boyfriend, the situation becomes more than she can bear. "Just let him go! He was trying to shake his hand, because…" her voice breaks, and she begins to cry. Will is forced against the wall by another officer, who begins to check his arms for a weapon. Alice tries to reach out to him, and an orderly pulls her away. "You _don't_ want to touch me right now," she threatens the little man in a low voice.

As if on cue, Dr. Lecter turns a corner and examines the scene before him. Will is visibly cringing in his cell, as if burning with rage. _Good. _The interesting girl has a dangerous look in her eyes as she pulls her arm away from a rather short orderly. He would need to speak with Frederick about hiring more muscular staff. Will was very smart, and managed many acts of violence while critically ill and in a deteriorating state. Dr. Lecter was interested to see what he was still capable of, but for now he needed to stay put.

"I'll meet you outside, Liam," Alice calls weakly after her quickly disappearing love. She was livid that they would go so far as physically remove him for a simple handshake, but she had to remember who they thought her brother was. There was…_protocol_. She felt like fainting.

Dr. Lecter glides over to stand before her in broad strides. He places a reassuring hand on her arm for the briefest of moments, and she feels repulsed. She hopes it doesn't show on her face. "Alice, I was hoping I might run into you. Would you and your friend care to dine with me tonight? I am something of a chef and can give you references, should you feel wary" he says with an indulgent smile.

Of course, this statement enrages Will, which is what it was meant to do. "You have the audacity…" he begins to say, but feels an acute pain in his arm as a needle slips in. After being checked for anything passed through the bars they sedated him, placing him gently on his cot.

Alice looks sadly on the scene, unable to move or speak. She feels suddenly very far away from Will, as though he were hidden deep in a forest she has yet to enter. "How am I supposed to eat?" she says softly, mostly to herself. She feels her mouth turn to sand and her stomach constrict.

Hannibal tilts his head as he gazes at her. "I find a proper meal is much more palatable than anything you might find in the cafeteria here. Come, you need your strength too," he says paternally.

Wanting to know more about this Dr. Lecter, and unable to make sense out of the situation yet, she accepts the invitation. She knows if she wants to save Will from the lion's den, she will have to enter it first.


	4. Chapter 4

Alice feels underdressed sitting in the dim opulence of Dr. Lecter's dining room. Her sleeveless flannel dress flares out on top of her chair. She hopes her combat boots don't seem defensive or dirty. She was comfortable in this hanging around bars in St. Marks, not while chatting with upper crust types. She is facing gorgeous plants cascading across a wall, a motley potpourris of horns and other accoutrement…she toys with her silver bracelet and strokes her hair. "You have a lovely home," she says honestly, with a soft smile.

"Thank you. I hope you've brought your appetite."

Liam yawns and rubs his belly. "I haven't eaten since breakfast. Let's _do_ this." He has his game face on. Alice chuckles and nods her head with a smile.

"Remember that night upstate when we went to see _Grindhouse_ and we thought there would be food, but there wasn't and we…" she bursts out laughing, "…we drove for like _two hours_ in search of pulled pork?"

Liam reaches across the table and takes her small hands in his. "Yes, I do," he says seriously. "It was _delicious._ And we had chocolate cake for dessert. A man doesn't forget something like that." He kisses her hand.

Hannibal watches the adorable scene with disturbing clarity. This girl presents him with the reflection of what a happy Will might be like…it makes him feel sorry for his old friend.

"Our entrée is called Kenchinjiru, originally consumed by Buddhist monks, consisting of mushrooms, vegetables, and kelp. This should help revive you," he says as they take their first sips.

"Mmm, the broth is so rich. Do I taste an infusion of squash?"

"That you do," Hannibal answers with a smile. He searches her face for the mixture to take effect. Abigail had felt euphoric and blissful. It had been such a pleasure to see her smile back at him and feel love beam off of her in waves.

Alice takes several more savory sips and even swallows quite a bit of mushroom before she sets her spoon down and looks wildly into Liam's eyes. "Have your eyes always been that _blue_? The color of sky in a Dali painting. How do I ever talk to you?" she asks in confusion.

"I know exactly what you mean," he says before giving her the gentlest of kisses. Then his face changes. "Do you feel sick?"

The room begins to slide, as if everything is melting away. "I feel fine," she lies, not wanting to sound crazy in front of the doctor.

Liam asks where the bathroom is before departing queasily in that general direction.

"Tell me, Alice, how are you feeling?"

Alice takes a sip of wine and then feels blood sliding down her throat. She drops her glass, spilling her wine on the table, leaving a trail of red that leads to Hannibal's left hand. "I'm sorry," she stammers, unable to focus her vision. "Everything feels dead," she tells the caterpillar crawling up the wall.

"Because of what your brother is going through? He is still alive, Alice. A jury won't sentence a man like Will to death. He's too valuable."

"What do you mean?" she asks the caterpillar, sitting on her knees.

"Doctors will want to study him, learn about the way he thinks."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she asks, laughing. Then, in a secretive voice she whispers, "Don't worry, I'm going to save him." The caterpillar disappears into a plant and Alice turns around to see Hannibal watching her closely. He helps her to her feet and offers her a glass of water.

"Liam has barricaded himself inside of my master bath. I think this trip is taking a toll on him," Hannibal says gently, seeming concerned. "You seem rather out of sorts yourself. Come, help me prepare dessert." He takes her by the hand and leads her into the kitchen.

As he removes some kind of bread pudding from the oven, Alice puts her head in her hands. "How can I enjoy anything when I know Will is locked away right now? How am I supposed to…everything looks too beautiful, as if it were _mocking_ me. What right do I have to see beautiful things? When did I_ earn_ them?"

"Now that you have experienced suffering first hand, you are in a state of shock, rejecting the goodness in yourself as not worthy if someone you love can be so far away from pleasure." His observation makes a great deal of sense to her, and she nods, letting the pain wash over her, _through_ her. "But you cannot punish yourself for something that is not in your control. Everyone is responsible for their own lives."

Alice looks up into Hannibal's gray eyes and finds a void she never expected. She could drown inside of his gaze if she let herself. "I'm going to check on Liam," she says before tearing her eyes from his.

She finds him curled in the bathtub, staring at his hands. "I'm inside my head, but also my fingers," he explains.

For the first time that evening, she feels as if something is terribly wrong. Why had she spoken to a caterpillar, and why was Liam tripping like he did when they tried peyote in New Mexico? He looked pale, drugged even. _Drugged…_

Alice turns to find Dr. Lecter blocking the doorway. "I think we'd better go now," she says, pulling Liam up with her as she stands.

"You haven't tried the dessert," he coaxes.

Before she can answer, her phone goes off. "Hello?" she waits a moment and then frowns. "What happened? Is he…oh, you impossible bastard." She hangs up the phone in disgust. Looking up at Hannibal, she asks, "Can you drive me to the hospital? Will tried to…escape. They put him in solitary and I need to punch someone," she is on the verge of tears but feels an emptiness she can't explain.

"If he's in solitary, they won't let you see him, Alice," Liam says bluntly. "Let's just go to the hotel and figure it out in the morning."

"I can't even look at you right now. Did you take something before you came here? I trusted you to keep me safe and I find you curled up in the bathroom, tripping? I know I'm losing it. What's your excuse?" She doesn't want to lash out at him, but feels betrayed by his behavior. Could he really have been so reckless when she needed him to be what kept her grounded?

He feels like she splashed cold water in his face. "How could you even say that? I dropped everything to come see you because I _love _you."

She takes a moment to consider this. "I'm sorry. Just take me to the hospital, babe. I can't leave him there like that." Her head is beginning to feel clearer.

"Let's go." And as quickly as they had arrived, they departed, leaving the sweet aroma of attraction, fear and a hint of madness behind. He wondered if Alice would consider a bit of therapy to sooth her enflamed nerves…

"I don't care what time it is, I want to see him _now,_" she seethes at the night nurse.

"Mr. Graham has been sedated and taken to solitary confinement. Dr. Chilton is reminding him that there are consequences for attempting to escape, not rewards." The nurse gives her a smug look and then proceeds to ignore her.

"There are consequences for being rude, too. Karma can be a real bitch, and that's just some friendly advice," Alice offers before turning away in search of someone more intelligent and helpful.

Liam had left a few minutes earlier in search of a bathroom. Alice felt like he was spending the entire night in lavatories and she was beginning to be unnerved by this new proclivity. She decides to find him and maybe head back to the hotel after all.

The halls are dark shells in the night, ghostly echoes lingering with each step. She walks until she finds the male restroom and then waits for Liam to emerge. After twenty minutes, she knocks on the door. When she receives no response, she pushes the door open to find Liam lying on the floor, covered in blood. His hands have been hacked off, his tongue, cut out. His wounds are the exact mutilations of Lavinia, the character she has been rehearsing for. The only difference is that unlike Lavinia, who is left alive, Liam's heart has been cut out of his chest.

On the mirror, written in blood, Alice reads, "Die, die Lavinia, and thy shame with thee, and with thy shame thy brother's sorrow die."

The room begins to spin as the smell of blood fills Alice's lungs. She gropes at Liam's chest, his arms, searches the floor vainly for his missing hands...she falls forward, her hands skidding on blood, her heart pounding, tears spilling onto his face in puddles…she hears someone scream and grope at her shoulder. She bites the hand that touches her, cradles Liam's head and begins to rock back and forth, sobbing.

"No, no, shh baby, it's only a bad dream," she cries, eyes closed. "I'm gonna fix it, I have to, I have to I have to I…" someone pulls her up and away from her lover's dead body as she loses consciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

_Her head is pounding. Alice is sitting at Hannibal's table again, except tonight it is decorated for a tea party. She watches as Liam tries to lift a tea cup with his stumps. Will is sitting beside her, whispering "Die with thy brother in shame and sorrow" into her ear over and over. She reaches out for her own cup of tea and notices a tongue floating with the buds of chamomile. _

She wakes screaming, knocking over the water beside the bed and cringing, half expecting a tongue to fall onto the sheets. She has been taken to the infirmary, and the once sleeping Dr. Lecter stirs when he hears her, placing calming hands on her shoulders to keep her from getting up. She takes several shuddering breaths before asking, "I'm in hell, aren't I?"

Dr. Lecter resists the powerful urge to smile. "You are still very much alive. Do you know where you are?" he asks, flashing a small light in her eyes.

Alice shivers and gazes at the room in horror. "Yes," she whispers inaudibly. "Did they find the person responsible?" she begins to come back to reality when she realizes that the murderer may still be near.

Hannibal shakes his head and looks still deeper into Alice's face, noting every changing emotion like the ripples in a lake. "Even though Will has been kept in solitary tonight, there will be reporters who blame him for the murder," he warns. "There will also be those who accuse _you_ of this crime," he takes her hand in his. It is as cold as shell plucked from a winter sea.

"How could people think that _I…_" she feels his large hand begin to tighten around hers. "How did you get here so quickly?" she asks, pulling her hand from his grip.

"After you departed from dinner, Dr. Chilton called me with the details of Will's attempted escape. I decided to come and check on him. By the time I was finished, I heard your screams. I'm so sorry, Alice."

"It's the Chesapeake Ripper, isn't it?" she asks boldly.

Hannibal examines her with interest. Even in an emotionally taxing state, she is able to put the pieces of a gruesome and yet artful murder together with as much ease as her brother. He has a feeling that without encephalitis clouding her mind, she will be able to "see" the ripper much more quickly than good Will did. He would have to treat her using a more subtle manipulation.

"I cannot answer you with any certainty, and yet I cannot deny that you pose a shocking theory. Abel Gideon, whom your brother killed, _claimed _to be the Ripper, but it was an unconfirmed confession, like so many others." He turned his head to hide his satisfaction. "I have to inform you that Agent Jack Crawford is outside, and wishes to discuss the manner in which you discovered poor Liam."

A man much shorter than Dr. Lecter enters the room with a grim expression on his face. He is dark, forbidding, and wears his years in law enforcement uncomfortably on his shoulders. He has none of Dr. Lecter's posture, grace and confidence. Alice begins to miss his comforting hand on hers. She doesn't want to talk to anyone else. All she wants is to curl into a ball and vanish, like a drop of rain sliding down a roof into the gutter.

"Ms. Graham," Agent Crawford begins, but his voice catches. "I've worked closely with your brother in the past. He never mentioned a younger sister."

"Why would he?" she retorts bluntly. "Look Agent Crawford, I know who you are. I know that you're the reason everyone thinks my brother cracked and became a murderer. What I don't know is how you sleep at night. Let's just stick to what happened to Liam, ok?"

"Young woman, you will _not _speak to me using that tone of voice," Jack responds, his face a mask of emotion, his tone, steel.

"Did you talk to my brother like that when you made him look at slaughtered girls?" Alice feels like splinters of wood are pressing into her heart.

Hannibal steps between the two emerging adversaries, a look of concern on his face. "Agent Crawford, I must insist you leave the room. Alice is in a very delicate emotional state, as I'm sure you can imagine. She will answer your questions after she's rested."

Agent Crawford stares at his colleague with an inscrutable look on his face. "I need to speak with this young woman about how she found her boyfriend tonight, and that is not up for discussion," he states plainly.

"Alice, focus on your breathing. Agent Crawford is only trying to do his job so that he can catch this killer," Hannibal offers, a look of sheer distaste playing in the creases of his lips.

"Did you find his hands?" she asks, truly wanting to know. She loved holding Liam's hand…

"No. Now why don't we start with why you were visiting Will after hours."

She describes the entire evening, including having dinner with Dr. Lecter. In truth, she forgets to mention fighting with Liam after dinner, threatening the nurse and biting an orderly's hand, but various witnesses, including Dr. Lecter himself, fill in those blanks for Jack, giving him a clear picture of a very unstable girl. He asks the doctor to step into the hallway with him to discuss the matter in private.

"I do not like the sound of this. The only reason I'm not cuffing her is because of the missing hands. I can't account for how she could have hidden them before the orderly found her."

Hannibal bows his head. "You think she did this." It is not a question. Manipulating Jack is second nature to him now. He wonders if he has any original thoughts anymore, or if they are all subtly planted by him. He misses the garden that is Will's mind, and he longs to enter the Wonderland before him now.

"She certainly knows more than she's telling, and she has very high defenses, which proves that she's hiding something. The only question is if she's hiding something she knows about Will."

This last inference leaves Hannibal interested. What could Jack believe Alice knows about her brother's case? Had Will told Alice of his belief that Hannibal is the Chesapeake Ripper? She certainly visited him often enough for something like this to come up, and she did say that she planned on "saving" her brother…

"This could certainly be the case, Jack," he agrees. He knows that Jack is a narcissist and enjoys nothing more than to feel clever and respected. "But I still urge you to be careful with her. We cannot imagine the weight she carries, just by being Wills sister, and now her lover has been taken from her…"

Jack nods after a moment of thought. "We cannot fail with her, Dr. Lecter. I failed with Will by not seeing that he needed closer attention. I should have informed my superiors about his mental state a long time ago, and had them review your session notes. I'm not going to arrest her, but I think she should be kept out of the public for now. Let's put her in a youth ward in a more…_residential_ hospital."

"Port Haven could be a good fit for her," Hannibal suggests. He imagines her sitting in the same room that Abigail inhabited, her huge doe eyes matching the pale blue of the flowers that surrounded her.

"Where Abigail lived?" at first Jack looks sick, but then he nods his head like a good dog and goes to tell the other FBI agents the nothing they now know.

Closing the infirmary door gently behind him, Hannibal watches Alice's slow and shallow breathing from across the room.

_Die with thy brother in shame and sorrow Die with thy brother in shame and sorrow Die with thy brother_

Alice wakes from the same nightmare in a cold sweat. She has been transported to Heaven…_Haven…_she tries to think, but falters. The room looks designed for a doll save for the small hospital bed. She wants to throw up, but her stomach feels empty, so she curls up into a ball and thinks of Liam.

Opening night of _Hamlet _had been one of best of her life. Liam found her backstage before her first scene and kissed her, telling her that she was incredibly talented and even more beautiful. She found a bouquet of roses in her dressing room and a bottle of champagne that they split…_his chest split open, his hands, his hands, his mouth…_vivid red visions distort her memory, infecting it with horror.

She forces herself out of bed with a groan and steadies herself as her focus adjusts to her new surroundings. She expects the door to be locked, but when it opens with a slow creak, she steps through and into the dark corridor.

…..

"You brought her to Port Haven?" Will asks in disgust. He doesn't have to ask whether Hannibal murdered her boyfriend. He would just find that rude.

"Yes. She was having vivid nightmares and displayed erratic, violent behavior. Jack wanted to arrest her," he adds, twisting the proverbial knife.

Will shakes his head, contempt for his former superior boiling dangerously close to the surface. "Of course he wanted to. I bet Jack would make an excellent witch hunter, he's so good at making terrible inferences and false accusations," he muses.

Hannibal steps closer to Will, though bars still keep them apart. "Liam's hands and tongue were cut off, his heart torn out. Why would someone mutilate a young man in that particular way?"

"The way he was murdered was meant to be taken as a message. You wanted Alice to _see _the horror of what her character endures…so that she wouldn't be able to leave without being irreparably damaged. What's your plan now? Psychoanalyze her to death? You almost managed it once," he says, betrayal making him look much older.

Hannibal scoffs at this rude jape, brushing invisible lint off of his overcoat. "Projection is beneath you, Will. We do not know for certain that Alice did not commit this murder. Abigail gutted a man, and she was three years younger than your sister."

Will sits on his cot, feeling sick. "I don't want to talk about Abigail." He looks up at his old friend. "Choose not to hurt her, even though that may not make sense to you. Try reconstructing _my _thinking, and feel love and concern for her." Hannibal tilts his head, watches every twitch in Will's face. Then he realizes his true motive for killing Liam. "You didn't kill that boy to help Alice see, you did it to watch me squirm as you isolate and manipulate her into calling me a killer. You'll have everything you need to keep me here forever…"

"Be careful, Will. You're beginning to sound like a narcissist. Rest. Dr. Chilton is planning a radical session of hypnotherapy for you tomorrow, to help you remember who you are and what you've done."

He left him sitting there, caged and vulnerable, ready to be devoured whenever the lion felt particularly ravenous.


	6. Chapter 6

The pale blue walls look lonely in the dim light. Most of the doors are closed, by Alice glances in a room with medical equipment and a really odd looking machine, and another with an old woman sleeping fitfully. She is wearing pajamas, but feels very cold. Her socks pad against the linoleum silently, which is why the nurse sitting behind the counter jumps when she sees her.

"What are you doing out of bed? It's nearly two in the morning," the nurse scolds, putting down her romance novel to give the new admittance a look over.

Alice avoids eye contact. "I was…afraid. My boyfriend he…can I make a phone call?" she asks in a jumble.

"Not at this hour. I'll give you something to help you sleep," the nurse suggests. She walks Alice back to her room in silence, and gives her three small pills to swallow.

"I don't want them," she says, arms folded.

The nurse pulls her hands apart and places the pills in her palm. "The first thing you need to learn is that you _always_ take your medication. There are consequences if you don't."

"Is this even legal? I don't even know how I _got _here. I just lost the man I love and now you're _yelling_ at me?" she stammers.

"Lean back and swallow the pills. You can talk to your doctor about this in the morning."

Alice does what she is told, feeling defeated. She saw enough horror visiting her brother to know that arguing is never useful with people who think you're insane. When she is satisfied that the nurse is back to reading her Harlequin novel, _so lame_, she spits the pills into her hand and flings them under the bed. Then she climbs out her window, thankfully it's on the first floor, and runs into the night, trying to remember the way back to Will.

Her feet scrape against rocks and concrete, but she pushes on, not allowing herself to think about anything but her breathing. One foot in front of the other…she hides against a tree when a police car cruises past. She can't be sure if they know she's run away from the clinic, and she _is _part of a murder investigation…the weight of her current situation drops on her shoulders like a suitcase full of lead. Part of her wants to just fall down and die. At least then she could be with…but she _couldn't_ be with him. Alice is too cynical to believe in an afterlife, and she still feels deeply motivated to help Will. Only now she feels like the only way to help Will is to break him out of the hospital…

A red Ford passes, and Alice sticks out her thumb in desperation. The car slows to a halt. She has never hitchhiked before, but knows she cannot run all the way across town without any shoes. The passenger side window slides down and a man glances over from the driver's side.

"In trouble, miss?" he asks, a look of worry on his face. He notes her lack of shoes and coat.

"I…must have been sleepwalking," she says, forcing a look of fear and confusion on her face. "Could you drop me off at my house? It's, umm…it's near the hospital for the umm…criminally insane…" her voice trails off and she looks deeply embarrassed. "The rent is low," she adds weak shrug.

The man chuckles. "Hop in." He introduces himself as Don and Alice introduces herself as Abigail Thorn. It's the first thing that pops into her mind.

After twenty minutes of awkward silence, he asks, "You aren't a cop, are you?"

Alice sucks in a nervous breath. She gazes at him out of the corner of her eye. "I'm just trying to get home," she responds meekly.

"Well if I ain't a taxi, and you ain't a cop, how do you intend on payin' me?" he inquires, leering. His eyes flash to her breasts, her legs.

Somehow, she finds strength from the horror she has endured, and risks saying, "Actually I lied. You hear about that guy that was murdered? Had his hands chopped off and a quote from Shakespeare written in blood on the wall?"

The man swallows nervously and looks at her differently. "The news said a guy was butchered, but they didn't mention no freaky quote…" Alice sits quietly, letting that information sink in. "Said the sister of that serial killer found the body when she was visiting him in the…" he stops the car abruptly. "I don't want no part of whatever it is you're mixed up in. _Out. Now_."

The lonely road looks mutely back at her as she watches the smoke trail after the ugly red stain running off into the distance. She doesn't feel like herself anymore. She feels like a wild animal, hungry for revenge. No matter. She gazes in the distance to see the top spire of her destination loom ominously in greeting.

…..

Getting past the first guard isn't a problem. He's got the word _victim_ imprinted within each post-adolescent pimple. After stealing an inmate uniform, she pretends to be groggy, asking why her door was open.

"How did you get all the way out here?" he asks in confusion. He doesn't recognize her, but realizes he'll be in big trouble if anyone finds out a patient was wandering around in a facility that was _supposed_ to be secure. After what Gideon had done to the night nurse, they had become extremely diligent.

"I must have been sleepwalking. I don't…I was in Solitary," she lies, hoping this will prove easier than she had anticipated. She feels intelligent and powerful as he leads her towards Will, every door unlocking in front of her with ease.

The guard sighs, "Just please, don't tell anyone about this. Who is your doctor?"

Alice takes long strides down the hall. She looks in the last cell and sees Will sitting on his cot, head in his hands. "Actually, you're an idiot," she says, giving him an unfortunate once over. Then she knocks him out. While learning stage combat in college, she decided to pick up kick boxing and fencing as well, as they are strong skills to have in her field. She never thought she'd actually use her kung fu to be a badass. She smiles, snatches the keys and unlocks Will's cell.

His head shoots up when he hears her voice. He takes in the scene as Alice unlocks his cell door. "Dr. Lecter told me they took you to Port Haven…I'm so sorry about Liam, Alice."

When she hears Liam's name, she gasps. None of this felt real until she heard Will say it. If it was a police officer or Dr. Lecter, she could pretend she was dreaming, or having some horrible hallucination. Everyone was a fictional character in her mind that was trying to play tricks on her. She would see Liam when she woke up, back in New York, drinking coffee in their little loft…

"He's dead. He's _dead,_" she repeats, trying to understand the word but feeling lost in its complexities. Her eyes grope for something to hold on to…they stop at her brother's face. "We have to get out of here. I don't trust Dr. Lecter."

Will hardens his jaw. "I couldn't risk telling you anything because it would put you in too much danger. But look at us already." He gazes sadly at the oversized prison uniform she's wearing and remembers how much she's already suffered. Hannibal was through wasting time, he supposes.

Alice's eyes begin to widen in fear. "He's the Chesapeake Ripper," she whispers, knowing that this is the worst possible solution to the puzzle, and that they are in _very_ dangerous territory.

"What is it about us Grahams and seeing the obvious?" he asks mockingly. "I was _sick _with something making me feel crazy and Dr. Lecter _telling _me I was. Still, that's no excuse for being blind. You figured it out in two days…and Jack, Alana and the rest of word are still blind."

"This is a puzzle for the morning," she warns. "Getting in was easy. People will always say yes to locking someone up. Let's just hope there isn't a shift change." Alice glances into the other cells and places her pointer finger on her lips, smiling. "Keep my secret and I'll give you a kiss," she lies playfully. The room remains silent. She feels hunted.

They enter the elevator feeling uncertain, but there are no other exits or stairwells that aren't locked behind a gate. Will presses the Lobby button, and Alice bites her lip in fear. "I never expected Hannibal would terrorize you like this. If I had guessed…I would have written you…"

Alice squeezes his hand. "They wouldn't have mailed me anything you wrote, Chilton would have stolen it. And I always would have come for you. If you can't believe anything else, believe that."

The elevator _bings _and the doors slide open to reveal Dr. Chilton and several orderlies waiting to apprehend them. Will manages to punch one of the men before he is hit on the back with a night stick and kicked to the ground. Alice reaches for him, is grabbed by thick hands and spun around to face Dr. Chilton. She stares at him in anger and pity. "You're working with a psychopath!" she shouts, kicking her legs out as she's dragged away.

Alice wakes to find her hands bound to a chair. There is an IV in her arm and she feels queasy. When her eyes are able to focus, she realizes that Will is bound in the same way across from her. "What's going on?" she croaks, throat raw.

Dr. Chilton steps in between them and smiles. "Good, you're awake. I'm going to try a paired session of hypnotherapy, focusing on early childhood trauma and violence." He is speaking into a camera facing the pair of them.

"I won't be a part of this," she groans, making fists and pulling against her restraints.

"Nurse, administer the sedative," he orders. Then to Alice he adds, "It's a low dose, you'll be more or less conscious."

"More or less," Will snarls from behind him.

As the room fades away and Alice finds herself in the woods, stuck in a thicket of branches, she realizes a stag is behind her, sniffing. There is a spider biting her arm…

"When did you begin to have violent thoughts?" asks the snake that slithers beside her ear, coiling its muscular green body in the branches.

Alice calls out for Will, but he hears the voice of Abigail Hobbs, crying in the arms of her father.

"Please daddy, don't, you don't have to, please," she begs.

"Leave her alone!" he thinks he shouts, but it's only a whisper.

The snake rubs itself against Alice's cheek. "You need to stay awake," he coaxes. "How did it feel to kill your boyfriend? Why did you remove the heart, hands and tongue?" he asks coldly.

Reality shifts in and out of her perception. The problem is, sometimes the delusion is preferable. "If you're the snake, who's the stag?" she asks. Hannibal stiffens behind her. Did she see a stag, the main symbol of Will's psychosis? And if so, was _he _the stag she sought? His fascination must be palpable because Chilton gives his colleague a quizzical look before focusing back on his questioning technique. This is _not _how Hannibal would have handled their treatment.

"What do you see, Alice?" he presses.

"How is a raven like a writing desk?" she asks before bursting into laughter.


	7. Chapter 7

Hannibal smiles and shakes his head. "Now is not the time for childish riddles," he scolds gently. His tone is more encouraging than anything else. He knows where she is quoting from, and wants to watch Frederick flounder. He notices Will, who is staring at Alice in silence. He notices Hannibal's gaze and says, "We were supposed to look after her." Hannibal knows he is referring to Abigail. He turns his attention to his favorite design, savoring the softness of Will's voice, the exhausted suffering.

"Will, you cannot blame yourself for the things you have done during your illness. I must take responsibility for not seeing the darkness hidden behind the fear, but I was hopeful that if I could help you break the illusion of your hallucinations, I could heal your mind and make you see yourself in a light you never knew was there. You would have been free…but your mind wouldn't let you. Your fever kept you weak and confused, but you have to accept that you fell into a dissociative state when you lost time, and you can't ever truly know what you did, though the evidence proves that you did them." When his eloquent speech nears the ending, he places a reassuring hand on Will's shoulder. "Once you accept reality, we can begin rehabilitation."

For a moment, Will almost believes that the man standing in front of him is his friend, pleading with him to come back to reality, that he had truly gone insane and needs help. That moment is short lived, for it is followed by the belief that _that_ was the subtext of what Hannibal was trying to convince him…did he need convincing because he needed a handle on reality, or because Hannibal wanted to show him _his _reality? _I could heal your mind and make you see yourself in a light you never knew was there…_His motive was hidden in plain sight, just like he was.

"You want me to accept that I am the Copy Cat Killer so that you can show me who I truly am?" he asks.

Hannibal's eyes flicker to Dr. Chilton's, who has a look of rapt attention. Might they actually be breaking through to him? "I want _you_ to want to accept that," he says in his mellifluous voice.

"And why do you want that?" Will returns, truly wanting to know. For a horrifying moment he knows, or at least thinks he does…so that he can make Will believe he is a killer and _likes _it_…_so that they can kill together? And if Will turns against him, he'll either admit him to a hospital or kill him and eat him for dinner. It seemed those were his only options.

Dr. Chilton breaks in, not being able to stay on the side lines any longer. "This isn't about Dr. Lecter, William. You need to focus on your own motives and reasoning if you want to recover."

Will can't control the laughter that emerges when he hears this. He gives Chilton an incredulous look. "Everything that has happened to me, all of the…damage_" _he can't even look at Lecter when he says this, "is because of Dr. Lecter. He murdered my _neurologist _because he didn't want me to find out that I was sick and receive treatment. He _liked _that I was losing my mind, hallucinating that I was a killer…" his words trail off as he stares out the window in confusion.

"Do you remember killing Abigail? Even if you think it was a delusion?" Hannibal asks gently.

Will swallows hard. He remembers lifting Abigail up and impaling her on the antlers…a tear rolls down his cheek. "I wanted to take her in, to love her, but I only brought her suffering and death."

Alice has been watching the scene unfold in front of her through a haze of red. When she hears Will say something that sounds very much like a confession, she is brought back to reality.

"Don't say things like that," she warns. "They're filming this. They'll use it against you."

Hannibal gazes at her curiously. How was she been able to remain so lucid? He has Will saying everything he needs to present at the trail. The entire conversation sounds like a symphony to him, every sentence, poetry. Will doesn't hear her, but he's also done talking, too lost in the memories of Abigail.

"Will needs to express how he feels about Abigail's death. You did not know her, but Will grew very attached to her. He wanted to be a father figure to her because he had stolen that from her when he killed her father," he tells Alice carefully. She doesn't know how to respond to this, so she remains silent.

Dr. Chilton smiles broadly, showing teeth. "Thank you, Will, Alice, for taking part. You both made steps towards recovery. We'll talk soon." With that, he gestures for orderlies to remove their IV's and restraints and take them back to their cells. When they have been removed and the door is closed, Chilton compliments Lecter, saying, "That was some excellent psychotherapy, doctor. In the future, let's stick to individual therapy sessions. This was an excellent platform in which to begin treatment."

Hannibal nods, though does not look particularly convinced. "We need to move slowly with Will. I think he's close to accepting his loss of reality, but he cannot be pushed. He _must _come to the conclusions on his own." He smiles unconsciously. "He really is unique, a true challenge."

"You remind me of how it felt like to treat Abel Gideon," Dr. Chilton says, reminiscing his failure.

Hannibal's lips twitch into a frown of distaste. "You wouldn't suggest that I was using psychic driving on Will." This is not a question, but a statement of fact.

"Of course not, that would be unethical," he replies with a smirk.

Hannibal clears his throat and adjusts his already perfectly laying tie. "If Will is reading any subtext in my therapy, it is because he wants to find the answers there that will help him see himself. He came close today. When I asked him about Abigail's death, his eyes drifted as though reflecting on a memory. If I can make him see that what he remembers is real, than I can help him see that what he doesn't remember may also be real." Then he would have him exactly where he wanted him. He wanted Will to become a work of art that _created_ works of art. Maybe when he was well enough, he would enroll Will in a cooking class…or teach him himself…

…

_What just happened? _Alice asks herself as the orderly locks her in a cell. She supposed Dr. Lecter couldn't risk keeping her in a minimum security facility like Port Haven now that he knew how far she would go to protect her brother.

Her cell is a tiny box with a wire cot, a toilet bowl _without a seat _and maybe ten square feet to stand. Alice was always bad at math, but she knows it is an unfortunate amount of space. Everything is gray. A guard stands watch outside her cell.

"So, you watch me even when I need to drop a deuce? 'Cause _that's_ gonna be awkward," she jokes bluntly. The guard doesn't look at her, doesn't even twitch. "I get it. You've probably heard everything by now, right?" No response. "I'm not trying to bother you. Everyone's gotta have a job. I'm an actress in New York. Before I got so lucky I was an extra, well, _atmosphere artist_," she chuckles. "I basically just stood around, like you."

"I don't just _stand around,_" the guard replies under his breath, seething.

"Sorry, didn't mean to offend you," she replies quickly. "I'm sure this is a pretty scary place to work." She wants to emasculate him, get him to step close enough so that she can grab him and snatch the keys to unlock her cell.

The nameless guard steps into the light, smiling smugly. He has Liam's face. "It isn't scary for me. _You're _the one behind bars. And yes, I _do_ watch- everything you do. Trust me, it'll be far more uncomfortable for you."

Alice swallows hard, feeling terror wash back over her. She remembers what she asked Dr. Lecter, right after Liam was murdered. She is beginning to believe that her first impression is correct. _Hell_, she thinks, collapsing onto the thin mattress of her cot, metal sticking into her back. The guard steps back into the shadows. Only the muttering of madmen breaks the silence that surrounds her.


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you to my followers, reviewers, and all those silent eyes that peer behind the creepy curtain that is Fannibalism. I appreciate your support and am sorry I have not posted in a while-but here we are again as the story slowly continues to unfold…the danger has only begun to surface. _

"Alice. Alice, can you hear me?"

She wakes in a foggy haze to hear the familiar voice, silky, foreign and warm. Turning on her side to face the wall, she mutters, "What time is it?" The lights are dim, the cell, quiet.

"It's one in the afternoon. Would you like to take a walk in the garden?" Hannibal suggests, standing up.

Still lying on her cot, she turns her head so that she can see his outline out of the corner of her eye. How could she refuse sunlight? "Yes, I…" she remembers what he was trying to convince Will of yesterday. "Just go away," she finally sighs weakly, closing her eyes in sorrow.

"It is important to rest while your mind heals, but you must also keep your body strong. A walk in the sunlight would be good for you." He opens the door of her cell and steps aside so that she may pass through…which she does, after agonizing moments of decision making in which she internally tears herself apart for listening to him, but inevitably feels too weak to resist the warmth and light of the outdoors.

Familiar sounds await her: the barking of dogs, chirping of birds, hum of mantis and plowing of grass. The only thing truly unusual is her walking partner. He seems almost jovial, his pressed checkered suit and deep blue necktie standing out amongst the orderlies in their white uniforms. There was something genuinely refined about him, as if he appreciated only true beauty and could handle any situation. Alice was not aware that such men still existed. Yet he seemed to have a dark agenda…

"I suppose you think I'm insane, like my brother, and killed Liam," she says bluntly, eyes focused on the trees.

"Why would you suppose a thing like that?"

"When I came here, I thought I could help him," she laughs bitterly. "But I had no idea what was waiting for me." Her eyes climb the top of his tie, up past his chin, to his pressed lips and finally, to his nebulous grey eyes. "Are you going to kill me?" she asks, in the same delicate voice that Abigail Hobbs had used only a few brief weeks ago. He could still smell her faint aroma in the air if he closed his eyes.

He looks at her as though for the first time. "It must be difficult for you to trust anyone at this current moment. I assure you, I have always had Will's rehabilitation and recovery at the heart of my actions. I would very much like to help you as well. Work with me, Alice, and perhaps we can find a way to get you out of here and back into the world, where you belong."

"You want to…help me?"

"Very much so. You are just a young girl, yet the obstacles you face grow ever greater, the burden, heavier. If I can help make the burden lighter, the way clearer, I would be happy to do so."

"Then why is Will afraid of you? Why does he believe you're a killer?" she feels terrified but also electric, her words carrying powerful messages that Hannibal was not expecting to read. At least not so soon…

"Do _you _believe I am a killer?" When she does not respond, he adds, "It is a common occurrence for older siblings to hold sway over the beliefs of the younger. I would not take it personally, of course."

"I don't _know_ you…not really. How could I even begin...but I know who _I_ am. I didn't kill Liam. I l-_love_…loved…" her words trail off as visions of his corpse blur the light from her eyes, replacing it with red steaks against a linoleum floor.

"No one is disputing that."

"Then why am I here? I understand it was wrong for me to try and break Will out, but then shouldn't I go to jail or something? Or do you think I belong here too?" her voice trembles as she grapples with a 'why' that feels infinite.

"I do not think you belong here, which is another reason I am passionate about working with you. To be truthful, I find Dr. Chilton reprehensible for the experimental treatments he's been performing on Will. I was shocked and appalled at your so-called 'dual hypnotherapy session.' If it were up to me, I alone would treat Will. But the law is on Dr. Chilton's side. They want him to receive care here, so I must work alongside Frederick. This is not the case with you."

"As crazy as it sounds, I don't want to go to a different hospital if it means being separated from Will…it…makes me feel…_safer, _knowing he's in the same building as me. I know it's silly but…"

At this, Hannibal places a reassuring hand on Alice's shoulder. He smells the faintest notes of fear and lilac scented shampoo. "Trust me, Alice. I understand wanting to be near someone you love." he imagines Will, tied down on his dinner table, as he cuts his chest open in search of the treasure that is his heart. But first he would feed Will his sister's heart. That is, after he was satisfied that his masterpiece would thoroughly appreciate such a gift.


	9. Chapter 9

_To begin with, a huge Thank You to anyone who reads, reviews, favorites or follows this story! More reviews are appreciated, as this tale has begun to take on a longer plot than previously anticipated. _

_Introducing Ariadne, a potential love interest for Will and friend for Alice, who has her own dark past haunting her…can she overcome her past in order to help those in her present? Will she be consumed by the harpy that lurks in the caverns of her mind? Or will she be consumed by someone she never saw coming, who has a taste for broken minds that smell of sweet, tortured madness? Only time will tell… _

Group therapy felt almost as excruciating as a root canal to Will Graham. Sitting in a small circle in the middle of a locked, guarded room, he was allowed to express his most inner fears and desires. His sister is noticeably missing. _How comforting_, he thinks bitterly, eyes throwing daggers at Dr. Chilton and trying to ignore Dr. Lecter entirely. _His _eyes pierced him in a way that feels like a burning scalpel cutting into his brain.

"Ariadne, why don't you start us off today? How are you feeling?" Chilton inquires, looking the willowy creature over with clear desire. She is twenty four, tall, with dark flowing brown hair, full pale lips and deep green eyes. There is a recklessness about her that radiates with heat.

"It's funny you should suggest that. Given what I saw last night," she replies with a threatening edge.

Dr. Chilton appears shocked, glancing quickly at his colleague and then back at his patient. "What are you referring to exactly?"

"You killed a sailor," says quickly, with half a smile.

"Excuse me? Are you saying you saw me murder a sailor?"

Ariadne cannot contain a wave of laughter that erupts upon hearing this response. She gives him a sympathetic look. "You've never heard of that expression?"

"I can't say that I have. Dr. Lecter, can you shed light on this matter?"

Hannibal studies Ariadne; her manic, yet intelligent demeanor, her ivory skin, the danger in her eyes that could be taken as madness by the less knowledgeable…he would have to learn more about this patient. _Especially_ after he noticed that bemused expression on Will Graham's face as he listened to her. Had his plaything found a friend? A romantic interest? Hannibal would have to watch their interactions closely. He could not let his squirrel out of isolation just yet… "Are you referring to the expression that whenever a man lights a cigar with a candle, he is killing a sailor?" Ariadne nods, impressed. He turns back Chilton, "This expression originates back when sailors sold matches for a living wage after war. If anyone saw you use a candle to light a cigar, they would consider it unpatriotic and stingy. Did you indulge in this superstitious act last night?"

"Yes, in fact I did, just as Ariadne left my office." Chilton smiles and turns back to her. "Another labyrinth for me to run through, hmm?"

"Would you prefer if I didn't notice anything at all and just…stared at the wall?"

Will lets out an almost inaudible chuckle. He likes her…

"Of course not, my dear. But avoiding the subject of emotion has become second nature to you. I need you to focus on yourself. Can you do that for me?" She looks at him in disgust. "Have the nightmares gotten any better since I increased your medication?"

"No. But I do sleep later, so there's _that_," she says with a mock smile.

"Is it still the same dream? The cave and the harpy?"

Hannibal's ears perk up. This was beginning to sound interesting.

Her eyes become foggy and her focus shifts to the floor. "She told me that cruelty has a human heart, and jealousy a human face, terror the human form divine and secrecy the human dress. Then she clawed at my face and disappeared. But I still saw her shadow in the flames…"

Chilton leans over to Hannibal, whispering, "She was brought in screaming, struggling against her restraints. She had just murdered her foster parents, and was raving about some cave that was never found."

"Louder Dr. Chilton, I don't think your publisher heard you," she says hatefully. He has recently published an article about her that was received with a decent amount of praise, but he knew her mind held darker, twisted secrets that needed to be mined carefully.

Will clears his throat and says softly, "What the harpy told you…that's a William Blake poem."

Ariadne turns her head slightly, searching his eyes. He holds her gaze, transfixed and fascinated. His empathy begins to stretch towards her, feeling her pain, confusion and darkness. "You know, it does remind me of Blake…but why would…" her speech trails off as she begins to put invisible puzzle pieces together in her mind.

"Will, you've been so quiet, it's good to hear that voice," Chilton says with a broad smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Why don't you just ask Dr. Lecter. Since he thinks he knows me so well."

Hannibal takes a deep, sorrowful breath. "I _do_ know you, Will. I know what you'd like to do to me, even in front of your sister, if it meant an end to all the madness. But you cannot cure a man's ailments by harming another. Positives and negatives, Will."

"You certainly know all about _negatives_," Will throws back at him, reminding his psychiatrist of the first conversation they shared over breakfast, so many months ago. He had shown Will a negative version of Garrett Jacob Hobbs' method of murder, using Cassie Boyle's body as the canvas, but he had pressed the image so close to Will's eye that he had remained hidden, as though behind a film strip, distorted.

Hannibal studies him, noting the sheen of sweat, pale discoloration of skin, _heat_ in his eyes. He is pleased that Will still possesses that sweet feverish scent about him. The medication he is on causes uncomfortable side effects, providing a sense of illness that he can't shake.

"I also know a great deal about the positives of this world." Hannibal adds after a moment's silence. "Art, music and beauty fill my life with color and sound hardly imaginable to human ears."

"You think I respect your _superiority complex_?" Will asks mockingly. "Because you love German Opera and can afford to wear expensive suits and eat the finest meals, means that I should want to be more like you?" Hannibal's eyes repeat that question back to him.

"What kind of person do you want to be, Will? Do you want to be a resistant prisoner here for the rest of your life? Or do you want to _live, fully, and know that you are master of the world surrounding you?" _Hannibal has lost himself to the urge to treat Will, now that he has him in front of him again. He almost forgets where he is, and who is listening.

"Your estimation of 'living fully' requires the dissection and subsequent _feast_ of your victims' vital organs. Shall I become a cook when you rehabilitate me, doctor?" Will asks, with real fear.

"I am sorry you have such negative associations regarding my culinary efforts. I always thought you enjoyed my cooking. I know Abigail did."

If Will wasn't shackled to his chair, which was bolted to the floor, he would have attacked Hannibal in a violent, animalistic frenzy. Instead, he satisfied himself with screaming, "You killed her you bastard, you _murdered_ her! We were supposed to _protect _her!" After a nod from Chilton, an orderly calmly walks beside Will, cups his chin with his hand, tilts his head to the side, sliding a needle into Will's neck, near a pulsing vein.

"Hey, stop, he's just upset! You don't have to do that," she says, watching in disgust as Will's eyes fight to stay open, yet inevitably close, his perfectly shaped lips slackening with his jaw, his body relaxing into unconsciousness.

"I am so sorry, doctor," Chilton laments, "perhaps it would be best for William to remain in solitary and only receive treatment from me. His mind is in a very fragile place right now. We need to tread cautiously or he may slide into a psychotic depression." As Chilton speaks, two orderlies drag Will's limp body towards a wheelchair. Hannibal regrets saying goodbye to his friend so soon…

Devoid of expressive emotion, Hannibal says. "I have to disagree. I think Will feels defensive in your presence. If I was able to induce a hypnotic state, he may be susceptible to a soothing treatment to relax him. In any case, we need to put him on stronger sleep medication. He is exhausted and manic."

"If you do wish to proceed with any sort of medicated treatment, a nurse needs to be present, and Will needs to be secured to a gurney. He'll fight against them, so use soft restraints or he'll cut himself." Chilton offers, feeling helpless against his colleague's desire to remain Will's foremost psychiatrist.

Ariadne pretends to watch the others patients drool as she listens closely to their conversation. Every so often she allows her eyes to fall on the handsome, composed face of Dr. Lecter. She wonders if he is just as sick as Chilton, just as excited by her pain and illness. But he seems relatively normal…and he obviously has extensive knowledge and culture…but there was something unsettling about the way he watched Will…something that looked personal…


	10. Chapter 10

_**I'm so sorry this chapter took forever to write! Life has been rather busy these days, but I'm still passionate about these characters and this story. As always, I don't own any of Harris' characters. Ariadne and Alice are OC's that I think Will needs at this particular moment in time. Happy reading! **_

Ariadne gazes cautiously into Will's padded cell. He has his back to the door and is curled into a fetal position.

"I've been locked in there before," she says softly, "You just need to remember that it'll end. They won't keep you in there forever. You just need to start pretending."

"Pretend what? That I think I'm a serial killer? That when I killed Hobbs I became 'mentally unhinged'? Because I _don't _believe that. No matter what they say…"

"No, it's good that you know who you are. But sometimes you have to play mind games if you ever plan on winning one," she reminds him. "I was locked in rooms like this one a lot…" her face twists with the sadness of her memories, "When I realized I could just pretend that I wanted their help, they would start to smile at me, and soon enough the restraints would come off and the doors would open…well, not _all_ the doors…but at least I can look out my window and see the stars. They're so far away, it's wonderful. To them, we're just specks of dust…but down here we have to deal with other people," she finishes her monologue wryly, with a grimace.

Will stands and walks toward the door, mesmerized by her face. She has a gentle beauty that can at once radiate with power if she summons the strength, yet she often appears tired, defeated. She has been locked away too long. "What happened to you?" he asks in almost a whisper.

"I don't remember," she says quickly, averting his gaze. He offers a disbelieving look in return, but she goes on to say, "No, really. I mean, I remember something, but it can't _actually _be real. I came home one day to find my mom and dad in the garden…it looked like they were sleeping under the apple tree, but their eyes were open…then the world tilted and turned red and I woke up to police officers shouting in my face and dragging me into an ambulance…"

Will had begun to cry. He could imagine being her, finding their bodies, having an episode and waking up in Jack's custody. After all, his story was not so dissimilar.

"Do you know who the killer is?" he asks after a few moments silence.

She waits, eyes mistrusting him for a moment. Could he truly want to know her side of the story, or was he Chilton's spy, pretending to be crazy and vulnerable so that she might trust him? The ruthless doctor had tried it before…but no, there was sincerity in Will's eyes that she felt was genuine.

"Yes," she whispers, eyes afraid. "There's a woman who comes to visit me. She says she's my birth mother, but she can't be. Chilton showed me a blood test, but she must have faked it somehow."

"Why don't you believe that she's your mother?"

"Because she's the Harbinger of Death."

Will waits a beat, checking if she's serious. When he realizes she is, he inches as close to the bars of the window as possible, his lips centimeters from hers.

"I think Dr. Lecter is the Devil."

"Why?"

"He has no empathy, or at least it's buried so deep inside of himself he would need an oil drill to crack his armor. He's torturing me, driving me insane while everyone watching thinks I'm just resisting 'treatment.' Well they're right. I am resisting," he adds bitterly.

"Will?" her face is suddenly so much closer than before. How was she able to smell so sweet?

"Yes." His response is a soft sigh against pouting lips. He almost forgets that there are bars between them…

"I believe you," she breathes, kissing his cheek.

He can't bring himself to speak, so he only smiles, though he is filled with sorrow. They tortured this girl. The only person in his life who let her guard down long enough to let him close enough to touch… "I'm going to get us out of here," he promises.

Three days later, Will and Ariadne walk the grounds side by side into the Common Room. Will instantly spots Hannibal. He freezes. Ariadne takes his hand in hers.

"I'm not afraid of him." She strides bravely towards them, lightly tugging Will along with her, but he keeps pace, careful not to appear weak in front of his nemesis.

Hannibal takes a step towards Will. "Good afternoon, Will. How are you feeling?" His gaze is focused so intently on his favorite patient that no one would assume he was studying the interesting young woman in his peripheral vision while also noting the return of color in Will's cheeks, the linked hands…

"Much better. Clearer. _Wiser_," he adds with an edge.

"Good. I was hoping we could begin having conversations again. Today, in fact. How would you feel about that?"

"You know, doctor, you're becoming obvious. I remember when your motive was buried so deeply inside of your supposed 'concern' for my mental well-being that I couldn't read you. Now, it's like reading the same page of a picture book."

"And what is the picture you see?"

"You're obsessed with me," Will answers too quickly, "All this time I thought I was Jack Crawford's old mug, but it's really _you _who sees me as a fragile tea cup. That's why you put me here. So I couldn't break without you doing the breaking. You put me inside a glass box and leave me here till you want to wind me up again…"

"It's time we put an end to this notion that I don't care about what happens to you. You are my _friend, _Will. I want what is best for you. I always have. I want you to know who you are, and then I want you to discover who you can _become._"

"I don't want to _become_ anyone. I want to be left alone to just _be_. Do you really hate who I am so much?" he asks in frustration.

"On the contrary. You have great potential. I simply want to guide you there." With that, Hannibal gestures to a pair of orderlies who take Will by the arms and lead him to an unknown fate.

Ariadne watches Hannibal watch Will being led away. She can see his hunger slide off of him in waves. "I don't know what you're planning to do to him, but it won't work. I've never met anyone as strong."

Hannibal studies her openly, fascinated by this new entrance into Will's captive life. "Are you romantically involved with Will?"

"Are you?" she throws back before striding away.


End file.
